


Compose yourself!

by isaacedison



Category: The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 19:59:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6022861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/isaacedison/pseuds/isaacedison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"If I understood it correctly, this entire whatever the hell it is was caused by some dramatic overreaction on Thomas's side and an enormous lack of empathy on yours." // In which Newt is an emotionless composer and Thomas is overly sensitive. But still they somehow manage to keep their friendship up. Well, at least at first.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Compose yourself!

**Author's Note:**

> Deep inside of me there's a voice screaming: "Do not start writing new stories before having finished your old stories!" But now it's too late anyway and it would be a total waste not to post stories that are already written, right? Try to enjoy it. Part II will be up soon.

**Dystopian Apocalypse**

 

 

_And then the Earth will swallow the ground we're walking on_

_And the skies will start falling down on us_

_We'll drown in the seas that have dried out so long ago_

_And we'll be left to wonder: "What should we do?"_

 

 

Newt nervously stared at his friend. Normally, the British boy was known for his patience, but in moments like this - when he excitedly played his latest composition to his best friend Thomas, the only one whose opinion meant anything to him in this field - he couldn't help but wait anxiously for Thomas to give away anything that hinted at his opinion. Newt nervously bit his lip, silently cursing Thomas's poker face. No smile, no frown or any sceptical looks to show any sign of approval or - what Newt deeply hoped not to be the case - disapproval. Thomas just sat there, next to Newt in a corner of the university campus, with his eyes closed and the dark red headphones on, listening to his friends newest work.

 

After a few seconds - which, to be honest, felt more like two hours - Thomas opened his eyes and took off the headphones. Without saying a word he looked at his best friend and after yet another ten seconds he handed him his MP3-Player back.

 

"And...?" Newt curiously asked.

 

"It's nice," Thomas answered with a straight face.

 

Newt let himself fall backwards onto the grass beneath him. _Nice_ wasn't exactly what he had hoped for, it didn't even come close to what he had wanted to hear. _Nice_ was something you say when your mother picks out the ugliest sweater on the planet and asks you for your opinion; it's something you think when you're walking past a group of seventh graders and none of them make fun of you; it's a word that describes the feeling of being-

 

"Newt? You still with me?" Thomas asked waving his right hand in front of Newt's face.

 

"I am."

 

"You sure? Because you look pretty dead to me."

 

"You said nice. Bloody nice. Out of all the words that exist in our beautiful language, you chose to say nice," Newt explained, only to have Thomas stare at him in confusion. "It hurt my pride, you idiot."

 

"Come on, Newt. You know what I mean. It's... it's good, I guess?"

 

"You're only making it worse, Tommy. Now, be honest, what's the problem with the song."

 

"I don't know how to explain it. You're a great composer, Newt, really, it just feels like something is missing. You wrote so many amazing songs, but... it always feels like you write them because you have to. Of course, I know how passionate you are about this entire music thing, but your songs are never emotional. The listener never gets to know how you feel," Thomas explained.

 

"Duh, why would I willingly let strangers know anything about myself?"

 

"See, that's the problem. Songwriters have to give away something about themselves, they have to expose themselves to others in order for them to be understood. You, on the other hand, don't want anyone to be close to you."

 

"Aw, Tommy, I want you to be close to me, otherwise you wouldn't be my bestie."

 

The blond knew that his friend had a point. It was true that Newt hated revealing information about himself, even introducing himself to others was something he could easily live without. He never understood why others needed to know anything about him. After all, it was his life, his decisions and he didn't really care about other people and their advice, so why let them in? Why tell them anything?

 

"Your bestie, huh?" Thomas mumbled.

 

Newt shot him a scared look.

 

"Where's that suddenly coming from?" he wanted to know.

 

"It's not like you ever play those songs to anyone but me. Nevertheless, you refuse to put any emotional depth into them. It sometimes leaves me wondering... I always tell you how I feel and what's on my mind. I share everything with you. My fears, my hopes, my feelings, because I trust you. That's why you're my best friend. But... it seems like that feeling is not mutual."

 

Newt felt like someone had kicked him in the stomach.

 

"Tommy, it's not like that, I swear. I do trust you. You're the only one who truly knows me, the only person I'd trust with my life. That alone is the reason why you're the only one who ever gets to listen to those songs in the first place," Newt said, swallowing hard. He hadn't thought that the mood could change this fast. In times like these, he envied his friend Minho. It would have been the easiest task ever for the Asian to somehow lighten the mood and turn the situation around.

 

"Do you really think I sit at home, writing songs while thinking 'Oh, right, Newt, don't forget to not include any feelings in this song, I mean, we don't want Tommy to know our deepest darkest secrets now, do we?' That's rubbish and you bloody know it."

 

Thomas gave his best friend a sad smile.

 

"Yeah, sure."

 

 

**A Change In Atmosphere**

 

 

_Lately you've been so distant,_

_Whenever I call your name you don't reply_

_But your lips form this sad smile_

_And although I can't think of a reason for it_

_I feel extremely guilty all the time_

 

 

Newt looked at Thomas from afar. Although his friend had told him countless times that everything was okay, Newt didn't feel like it. Thomas usually wasn't anything like that. Never had he gone half a day without talking to Newt, never had he seemed so drained, so stressed, and most importantly: never had he kept a secret from Newt.

 

"Never thought you'd be the type to stalk others, huh."

 

Newt jumped in surprise.

 

"Bloody hell, Minho. I almost had heart attack because of you idiot!" Newt complained in a mixture of whispering and shouting. He felt a slight pain in his chest when he remembered how Thomas had always made fun of him for his angry whisper-shouting.

 

"Suits your right. That heart attack is the punishment for spying on your best friend. What's the matter with the two of you anyway. Did you fight or why has the halfway decent human being the two of you made together fallen apart into a sad and an angry one?" Minho asked.

 

"Shut it," Newt replied.

 

Minho waited for him to go on but the British boy honestly didn't know what to say anymore. The situation between Thomas and him was weird. Weird, on an entirely different level than usually. Normally, their relationship was weird, because both of them combined simply had that effect. But now the situation was weird because they weren't spending any time together.

 

"I can literally see the smoke coming out of your head. What's wrong, shuckface?"

 

"I can't explain it. We didn't have any argument or whatsoever. We just talked and the conversation suddenly turned kind of... in an uncomfortable direction and now it looks like we're no longer friends," Newt explained.

 

"Fix it."

 

"Amazing advice, Minho."

 

"Well, you have to do something about it. I mean, look at yourselves. Thomas is a wreck and you turned into a stalker hiding behind trees. Get yourselves together, you are adults."

 

"Yeah, yeah. I got it, okay? I'm gonna talk to Tommy," Newt promised.

 

 

 

**Poetry Within The Silence**

 

 

_I've said a thousand words but at the same I've said nothing at all_

_You didn't say a single word but made yourself clear_

_I really want you to understand and to know my feelings_

_But I just can't find the words to express myself_

 

 

"You're my best friend. You know that, right?"

 

Thomas didn't reply. Instead he just looked at Newt, almost, as if he was trying to say something but didn't have the courage to speak up. Newt could feel himself getting lost in Thomas's dark brown eyes and he couldn't help but wonder what his friend was thinking at that moment. The way they looked at each other felt different then usually. It felt more intimate, and Newt somehow felt vulnerable under Thomas's stare.

 

"Talk to me," the blond said.

 

Thomas tore his eyes from Newt's and looked down onto their hands casually resting next to each other on the green grass. The two boys sat in a park, near their university. They had often come here before. It was always a nice distraction from all the stress and the work they had to do.

 

"I know that you're my best friend," Thomas whispered.

 

Without any second thoughts he pulled Newt's hand into his own, still refusing to look at the other one. With their hands intertwined, he suddenly felt stronger, ready to open up to Newt about what was on his mind.

 

"...But I think we should no longer see each other."

 

Within a few seconds Thomas had stood up and quickly left. Newt still sat on the ground, confused, heartbroken, with his hands cold after the sudden loss of the warmth radiating from Thomas's skin. He was unsure of what to do, so he pulled out his notebook and began scribbling down how he felt.

 

 

 

**I Miss You**

 

_Come back, come back_

_I miss you so badly_

_Your constant talking and those stupid jokes_

_The things that we have been through, highs and lows_

_I never thought that one day I'd say this_

_But it's true_

_I miss and I need you_

 

 

The days went by slowly and Newt felt a little lost in his own life. After Thomas had declared their friendship as over, Newt's daily routine continued normally. He went to his classes, studied, composed, and sometimes he met up with friends - friends who obviously were not Thomas. The only thing that had changed was that all those things and activities used to mean something to Newt and - although it was hard for him to admit it - they were things he enjoyed doing. At least back in the day when Thomas was still with him. Now Newt more or less stumbled through life without paying attention to anything.

 

"You have to talk to Thomas and sort things out," Minho had demanded.

 

"He's said everything."

 

"But have you said everything?"

 

Newt didn't really understand Minho's question. Of course he had said everything he wanted Thomas to know. 'But what about the things you don't want him to know, the things you can't even admit to yourself?' he heard a voice deep inside of him say.

 

"How's he doing?" Newt asked shyly.

 

"He's a mess. Almost worse than you. But, you know, instead of lying in bed the entire day he just paces around all day. It's really annoying," the Asian boy explained.

 

"Has he said anything about me?"

 

"Yeah, but it didn't make any sense to me. If I understood it correctly, this entire whatever the hell it is was caused by some dramatic overreaction on Thomas's side and an enormous lack of empathy on yours," Minho sighed. "To make it short: Apparently you never talk about your feelings and because of that he thinks you don't really want to be his friend."

 

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard."

 

"Yeah, but what's even more stupid is that you didn't even try to come up with any blabbering about your feelings and stuff. Why couldn't you just say something like 'From now on I'll share everything with you, by the way, today I'm feeling really bla bla bla...' That would have been the easiest solution. But no. Of course the two of you have to act like the main couple of a romantic drama that basically copies Romeo and Juliet but is somehow way worse. Really mature."

 

"It's not that easy, I..."

 

"I don't care just fix this. It's nerve wrecking to take care of both of you at the same time, telling both of you the exact same thing. It's so exhausting that maybe I'll just lock the two of you in a small room and wait until you either make up, make out or kill each other."

 

"This is so unfair. Why do I have to be the one who fixes everything? Why can't Tommy just act normally again?" Newt exclaimed.

 

"Because he already knows that he's in love with you but you still have to figure your feelings for Thomas out. He needs you to make the first step in order to find out if you're concerned about their friendship or their relationship," Minho explained, acting like a famous professor who had just given a lecture about a world-changing, scientifically-challenging topic to an auditorium full of knowledge-seeking students.

 

"Stop joking around. How can you even have the bloody guts to complain about my lack of maturity and then give a speech like that," Newt remarked annoyed.

 

Minho rolled his eyes sighing.

 

"Yeah, _joking_ , exactly."

 


End file.
